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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24122563">rounded with a sleep</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/violaceum_vitellina_viridis/pseuds/violaceum_vitellina_viridis'>violaceum_vitellina_viridis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Consensual Somnophilia, Cunnilingus, M/M, Nonbinary Jaskier | Dandelion, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scent Kink, Scent Marking, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Trans Jaskier | Dandelion, Vaginal Fingering, no beta we die like stregobor fucking should have</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:42:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24122563</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/violaceum_vitellina_viridis/pseuds/violaceum_vitellina_viridis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Geralt wakes to the sound of a soft moan in his ear.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>So it’s one of those mornings, then.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Trans Characters in The Witcher Universe</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>rounded with a sleep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>alright disclaimer / warning here: not all trans people are the same, and the ways they relate to their bodies, sex, and their genders are all just as different. in this story, jaskier is AFAB and living as a man, but i do not consider him binary trans male. i'm AFAB nonbinary trans and this is heavily based on my own experiences. jaskier's genitals and other characteristics are referred to by "feminine" terms (just their names - clit, breasts), but there's no feminization, he's referred to as he/him, and geralt uses "masculine" compliments. when this starts, jaskier is asleep, but it is consensual and pre-discussed that geralt can do these things.</p>
<p>if you have something rude to say, don't. thanks.</p>
<p>aaaand now onto the less defensive part of these notes: this is self-indulgent porn and should be held at that value lmao. i woke up with the idea and just.......couldn't leave it alone, so here it is. more shakespeare quotes for titles because fuck it, i've got a theme going</p>
<p>enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt wakes to the sound of a soft moan in his ear. He blinks his eyes open to find that Jaskier is practically on top of him, lithe body a long line of heat along Geralt’s chest and legs. Geralt grunts and shifts to his side, catching Jaskier in his other arm and shifting to allow the leg Jaskier drapes over his hip.</p>
<p>“Jask?”</p>
<p>The bard shifts and hums, but gives no other reply. Still asleep, then. Geralt noses into his hair and breathes deeply. He smells of the forest, damp and dirt and rot, and of his perfumes, sickly sweet scents that cling to the space below his ears, the hollow of his throat. But underneath all of that, Geralt can smell <em>him</em>, buttercups and lemon, something like lavender but spicier. In his sleep, Jaskier rolls to his back in Geralt’s arms and gives that same soft moan from before.</p>
<p>Interest piqued, Geralt runs his palm from the bard’s hip to his chest, cupping the slight swell of his breast before he moves back down. Jaskier gasps and arches into the touch, a small, garbled noise that could be Geralt’s name tumbling from his lips. Geralt hums and does it again, petting his hand over the soft curves of Jaskier’s body, focusing on the sensitive dip of his hip and the mound of his breasts.</p>
<p>One of Jaskier’s hands comes up and grabs his wrist, keeping his hand cupped around the soft flesh. Geralt hums again and squeezes softly, watches as Jaskier’s mouth drops open on a breathy sound and his back arches again, pressing himself into Geralt’s palms. The smell of his arousal, his usual scent but deeper, floods the air.</p>
<p>So it’s one of those mornings, then. Geralt presses a small smile into Jaskier’s shoulder and moves his hand, but only for a moment. The hem of Jaskier’s shirt is easy to shift aside, and he pets back up the bard’s stomach, until his bare palm meets the hardened peak of his nipple. He drags light fingers over the little nub and revels in the way that Jaskier shudders and groans.</p>
<p>He’s still asleep, for now. He’ll wake soon enough, but they’ve discussed this before – it’s easier, sometimes, for him to wake up to pleasure, than to engage in it completely awake. Geralt doesn’t quite understand, but he does know that it’s a show of trust, both that this happens and that Jaskier told him about it, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep his bard comfortable. To make him feel good.</p>
<p>Soon enough, even in his sleep, Jaskier finds the light petting over his nipple not enough. His hand, still loosely around Geralt’s wrist, moves to press his fingers down. Even in his sleep, the bard is demanding. Geralt muffles a chuckle into the soft skin of his throat and obeys the silent command, firming his touch until Jaskier is gasping and squirming. After a moment, Geralt shifts over to the other nipple, reveling in the almost violent shudder that coaxes out of Jaskier. The smell of his arousal gets stronger, and Geralt can hardly resist the call of it.</p>
<p>Jaskier arches into his touch the whole way down as he slides his hand from the bard’s breasts to his hips. It takes a moment for him to fumble open the ties of his breeches, but once they’re open it’s easy to slip his hand inside. The heat that greets his fingertips is near overwhelming, the wetness even more so.</p>
<p>Geralt swears softly and sets his teeth against Jaskier’s collarbone. The bard just whines, hips jerking up, into Geralt’s touch. It’s easy to slip his fingertips around in the wetness, a quick little circle around the hard nub of Jaskier’s clit, and he’s rewarded with a broken sound from Jaskier’s lips as he does. There’s no real rhythm to the way he’s moving, not right now – can’t really keep one with the way Jaskier is writhing – but he knows it’s okay. The first one always comes and goes quickly, and then Jaskier will calm. At least enough for Geralt to touch him properly, that is.</p>
<p>Jaskier slowly gets louder, gasps morphing into moans into keens, the closer he gets. His squirming rocks the edge of his hip against Geralt’s erection sporadically, and Geralt has to dig his teeth into the bard’s throat to keep his composure. He can feel Jaskier getting wetter, hotter, as he tips closer to the edge. He groans and traps his clit between two fingers, pressure just the right side of too tight, and Jaskier shatters.</p>
<p>It’s when Geralt pulls his fingers back that the bard wakes.</p>
<p>“<em>Fuck!”</em> The grip Jaskier gets on his hair is painful, but Geralt hardly minds when he’s pulled into a deep, desperate kiss. He digs his fingers into Jaskier’s thigh and lets the bard ravage his mouth.</p>
<p>After a moment, Jaskier pulls back with a breathy, “<em>More</em>,” and Geralt is hardly going to leave him wanting. His fingers slip around in the slick of him for a moment before he can pin down a rhythm, and Jaskier shudders like a sapling in a storm, nails digging into Geralt’s bicep and neck as he whimpers. “<em>Geralt.</em>”</p>
<p>“Jaskier,” Geralt murmurs back, moving his fingers just a little faster, stiffening his wrist to let Jaskier hump against them. The bard whines and comes again, faster than usual, and Geralt opens his mouth to mention, to ask, but Jaskier doesn’t let him get a word in.</p>
<p>“In,” he mutters, still clearly in that haze between sleep and waking, “inside, please.”</p>
<p>“How many?” Geralt asks, instead of what he’d been planning to say. He loses track entirely of what he’d been wanting to say, anyway, confronted with Jaskier more desperate and wanting than usual.</p>
<p>“Two,” Jaskier huffs, and reaches down to shove at Geralt’s wrist.</p>
<p>It’s easy to twist his hand, to bring two fingers together and push forward until they sink into Jaskier’s body. The bard groans and his hips jerk, as if he can take any more inside. “<em>Move</em>.”</p>
<p>So Geralt does. It’s an easy, practiced movement to rock his fingers back and then in, again and again. He knows just how Jaskier likes it, by now; not gently, that’s for sure. He curls his fingers a little, angling his wrist a bit more up, and gets kicked in the shin for it, but he knows it’s all well and good. Jaskier’s control over his limbs is shoddy at best during sex, never mind when he’s wanting like this and fresh from sleep, to boot.</p>
<p>Jaskier’s devolved into panting whines and mangled gasps of Geralt’s name. His grip on Geralt’s hair has gone slack, but he’s picked up for it by digging his nails into the nape of his neck. Geralt doesn’t mind. He can feel the tension in Jaskier’s body, feel how close it is to snapping; he could ignore a lot more than some tingling scrapes to focus on it.</p>
<p>“Come on, Jask,” he murmurs, pressing a series of sloppy kisses along the bard’s jaw. “Come for me, love.”</p>
<p>He thrusts in just a little harder, fingers curled sharply, and then practically yanks his hand away. Jaskier’s entire body goes taut as a wire, and then, with a sudden gush of wetness, he collapses back down. Geralt pushes his fingers back inside of him and just leaves them there. Jaskier likes to have something to clench down on. Geralt can’t say he’s averse to feeling it, either.</p>
<p>“Geralt,” Jaskier pants. “Fuck, Geralt.”</p>
<p>“Good morning.” Geralt licks up the sweat gathering at the hollow of Jaskier’s throat, ignoring the tang of the carrier oil from his perfumes. Slowly, both for Jaskier’s comfort and so the bard can stop him if he’d like, he pulls his fingers away. Jaskier just stretches with a content sound, giggling when Geralt’s wet fingers press into his hip.</p>
<p>“Morning,” he whispers back. “Fuck, definitely a good one. Gods, Geralt.”</p>
<p>Geralt hums. “Do you want more?”</p>
<p>Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn’t. As much as Jaskier loves sex, his desire to engage physically can be erratic, especially when he’s not got his usual glamour or supplies. Geralt doesn’t mind it.</p>
<p>“Mm,” Jaskier hums, and Geralt just kisses along his throat patiently. “Yes,” he finally murmurs. “Want your mouth.”</p>
<p>Geralt can’t help the growl that rumbles out of him. Jaskier laughs and threads his hand back through Geralt’s hair to pull him up, into a kiss. It’s sweet, but hardly chaste. Geralt moves his hand back up from Jaskier’s hip, pausing at his ribs, a silent question in the stillness.</p>
<p>“S’alright,” Jaskier murmurs, and Geralt ducks his head down at the same time he lifts the bard’s shirt. It’s too hot and close underneath the fabric, even as thin as it is, but Geralt doesn’t care. He finds one of Jaskier’s nipples, still hardened in arousal, and sucks it into his mouth without preamble. Jaskier groans above him and arches closer.</p>
<p>It takes a bit of fumbling, but Geralt manages to shift so that Jaskier is flat on his back and Geralt is straddling him, all without his mouth leaving Jaskier’s breast. The fact that it makes Jaskier laugh is a bonus. Even better than that, dragging open-mouthed kisses across his sternum to the other breast and teasing that nipple with his tongue startles a weak moan out of his bard.</p>
<p>“<em>Gods</em>, Geralt,” Jaskier hisses, writhing around until he can free one leg from between Geralt’s. He wraps it around Geralt’s hip and arches up sharply, grinding mercilessly against the line of Geralt’s erection. Geralt has to release his nipple for a long moment to press his forehead against Jaskier’s collar and pant wildly, hips jerking into the contact. Jaskier’s hands come up to his shoulders and shove, a none-too-gentle reminder of what he’s supposed to be doing.</p>
<p>He goes easily, ducking out from under Jaskier’s shirt to slide down. He hooks his fingers into the bard’s breeches and tugs them down with him, until they’re off and he can fling  them in the general direction of their packs. Head bent this close to the apex of Jaskier’s thighs, the smell of his arousal is almost too thick to breathe. Geralt sucks in a lung-filling breath anyway.</p>
<p>Jaskier chuckles a little brokenly above him. “If you like how I smell so much, Witcher, go ahead and bury yourself there.”</p>
<p>Geralt doesn’t have to be told twice. He noses into the thick thatch of pubic hair just over the lips of Jaskier’s sex and takes another deep breath before diving in tongue-first. He licks a broad stripe up from the slick entrance to the still-hard nub of his clit, and then uses the tip to tease along his folds. Jaskier shudders and his legs jerk up, thighs surrounding Geralt’s head.</p>
<p>It just makes him moan wantonly. He can’t smell anything except Jaskier, and he can feel the way the little flicks of his tongue are teasing more and more slick from his bard. His moans, too, are making Jaskier’s hips rock up into his face. It’s a heady experience, being this trusted. Jaskier’s hands find his hair again and he shoves him down, until he can barely breathe from the press of Jaskier’s flesh around his nose and mouth.</p>
<p>Exactly where he wants to be, frankly, so he goes at it. Long, soft licks with the broad flat of his tongue; light, teasing flicking with the tip; the gentlest scrapes of his teeth along the outer folds. Jaskier shudders at each new sensation, voice pitching and cracking as he tries to bark out a warning. Geralt ignores it, instead dipping his head further down, so he can press his tongue inside in one long stroke. At the same time, he wraps one arm around Jaskier’s thigh, pressing his thumb between the folds until he finds his clit and rubs, hard.</p>
<p>Jaskier <em>screams</em>, and Geralt has no hope of breathing as the bard rides his face and comes near violently.</p>
<p>It takes several minutes for Jaskier to come down, for his thighs to untense and let Geralt go. Geralt doesn’t go far when he’s released, just moves enough to breathe as he shoves a hand into his own trousers to grasp his cock. Jaskier laughs, something weak and lust-drunk, and grabs at Geralt’s hair to pull him up. Geralt goes.</p>
<p>“Perfect,” Jaskier mutters once Geralt’s face-to-face with him. Geralt’s sure he looks a mess, slick from his cheeks to his throat, wild-eyed with the need to come. But Jaskier just kisses the bridge of his nose and reaches down to knock his hand away from his cock. Geralt grunts unhappily but moves, letting Jaskier fumble open the laces of his breeches and pet teasingly over the head of his cock.</p>
<p>“<em>Jaskier</em>,” Geralt hisses, hips jerking involuntarily and smearing his cockhead over the bard’s palm and wrist. “<em>Please</em>.”</p>
<p>Jaskier laughs again. “Come on,” he says, and wraps one leg around Geralt’s hip to yank him down. Geralt’s cock slots into the groove between Jaskier’s hip and thigh and he groans, head dropping to Jaskier’s shoulder as he grinds forward. “Yeah, just like that. Make yourself come, Geralt.”</p>
<p>Once again, Geralt doesn’t need to be told twice. He grinds back and forth along the soft, hot skin of Jaskier’s hip, panting and moaning incoherently the closer he gets. Jaskier kisses along his temple and jaw, murmuring encouragement, shifting his leg to better accommodate Geralt’s movement.</p>
<p>“That’s it, come on, want to feel you fall apart,” Jaskier murmurs. “I’ll let you rub it into my skin, darling, make me smell like you for days.”</p>
<p>That’s what tips Geralt over. He makes a weak, pitchy noise and comes hard enough to blank out his vision for an indeterminate time. When he comes back to reality, Jaskier is petting through his hair and humming softly, an old lullaby Geralt only just recognizes.</p>
<p>“Mmm.” Geralt finds himself still incapable of words just yet. Jaskier chuckles and presses a kiss to the hollow behind his ear before dropping his arms, letting Geralt sit back to look at him.</p>
<p>Geralt does exactly as Jaskier said he could, rubbing the wet of his spend into the bard’s skin. He basks in the way it makes Jaskier jerk and whimper. Finally, once there’s only vague stickiness left, he leans forward again, just to murmur, “Handsome bard,” into Jaskier’s ear. That makes him whimper, too, but in an entirely different way.</p>
<p>“Always know just what to say,” Jaskier murmurs. “Not a man of very many words, but you’re rather good at them when you’d like to be, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>Geralt huffs, amused, and rubs his nose along the tendon in Jaskier’s throat. “Learned from the best wordsmith on the Continent, didn’t I?”</p>
<p>Jaskier makes a soft, choked noise, and yanks Geralt down so he sprawls over Jaskier’s whole body. “Oh, <em>Geralt,</em>” he whispers.</p>
<p>They don’t pack up camp or move on toward the next city for a very, very long time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>let me know if you liked this! i like writing jaskier as nonbinary trans, tbh, and i very much enjoy getting to write geralt as completely accepting of that because ..... well because i am nonbinary trans and it's a nice fantasy lmao</p></blockquote></div></div>
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